


Agents of SHIELD prompt fills

by stepantrofimovic



Series: Crumbs [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 21:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11517459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepantrofimovic/pseuds/stepantrofimovic
Summary: What it says on the tin: a home for my AoS-related prompt fills, written for people on Tumblr. (Most of this is likely to be Coulson-centric.)





	Agents of SHIELD prompt fills

**Author's Note:**

> It has been brought to my attention that, while a mixed prompt collection such as [Crumbs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7485759/chapters/17013255) is very handy for me as a creator, the format is annoying to readers who are only interested in one ship or fandom -- plus it clutters the tags, especially for less-popular ships. For this reason, I'm starting a prompt series with one fic for each fandom.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by **calltomuster** : 151: “I can't feel my legs!” – Philinda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a short prompt nights I did based on [this Tumblr prompt list](http://stepantrofimovic.tumblr.com/post/161208519113/nearly-200-writing-prompts-feel-free-to-reblog).

A car accident. Phil would like to think it’s fitting, that after everything they’ve been through, all the missions and alien invasions and the very concept of what’s human changing around them, it’s a car accident that gets them. Only it’s not fitting, it’s _wrong_ , because he’s flying out through the shattered windshield as the car flips and Melinda, oh god Melinda is still inside, she’s still –

_God, someone, please. Please, I’ll do anything._

He wakes up and he’s lying on the road, the smell of burning tires and asphalt and blood filling his nostrils. He strains to sit up, crawl back towards the car. _Melinda._

“Melinda!” he calls, trying to squeeze through the remains of the windshield even though the shards of glass are cutting into his hands. He should call backup, call an ambulance, but he needs to get to her first, see if she is –

“Phil,” she croaks, her voice small and laced with pain and panic and so, so wrong. “Phil. I can’t feel my legs. I can’t –”

 _It will be okay_ , he wants to say, but that’s not true. There’s blood on his hands from where he pressed them against the sharp glass.

There’s blood on his hands. His hands are bleeding. Both of them.

The moment he realizes he’s dreaming is the moment he wakes up, eyes flying open and his own ragged breaths echoing harshly in his ears.

He focuses on that, trying to bring his body back under his control. He can feel the Rider at the back of his mind. He wants out. Phil won’t let him.

He’s not so far out of it that he misses the tell-tale shift of Melinda’s body next to his as she wakes up. “Phil?” she murmurs, and her voice is blessedly free of pain and fear.

He hums in acknowledgment. He knows Melinda has picked up on his distress, or she would have just gone back to sleep. He waits for her to ask.

“Nightmare?”

He shakes his head minutely. “Memory.”

“TAHITI?”

He lets out a huff of breath that might almost pass for a laugh. It says something about his life that after everything that’s happened in the past four years, he barely ever dreams of TAHITI any more.

“Wasn’t one of mine. It was Robbie’s.”

Melinda could ask for more, of course. If she did, Phil would probably have to mention the fact that where Gabriel, the most important person in Robbie Reyes’s life, had been, the Rider had put Melinda instead.

Melinda doesn’t ask for more. Instead, she shifts closer to Phil.

Rosalind would have asked if she could touch him. Previous lovers would have just wrapped themselves around him, leading to awkward explanations when he pushed them away.

It’s different with Melinda. They have been partners for longer than they’ve been lovers. She takes his hand and wraps it around her wrist. Her pulse is calm and steady under his fingers, both a reminder that she’s alive and whole and a guide for his own, still frantic heart to match.

It takes him a while to fall back asleep, but when he does, his sleep is dreamless.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to send me a prompt, check out the [Prompts info](http://stepantrofimovic.tumblr.com/prompts) page on my Tumblr.


End file.
